


talk a little

by pavaal



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Teen Angst, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 00:15:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pavaal/pseuds/pavaal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John never gets jealous. (It must be something in the air.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	talk a little

Dave's been dating this girl for about a month now, and—she's _nice_ , you guess. Admitting it, if only to yourself, feels a little like defeat, but no matter how much of a hard time you give Dave and his stupid lady friend, you have to be honest: she probably doesn't deserve your wrath.

You dish it out anyway. Dave's blown you off too many times, and you can take it even less than you were not-taking it before, so when he catches up with you after school, you might be a little unreasonable.

"Hey," he greets, clapping a hand on your shoulder as you stalk to the bus stop. "Let me give you a ride home, dude. We should get a movie and hang out or something, it feels like it's been light years since we've done anything together."

"Light years are a measure of distance," you mumble, shrugging his hand off. "I can't believe you have time to give anyone a ride besides your _girlfriend._ You know. On your dick."

His stupid, sucky girlfriend, who is too good for Dave when you're mad at him, and not good enough when you miss him.

"Asshole." There's a lightness to his tone as he pulls his shades out of his backpack to slip them back on his face now that the school day is over. He must not realize how serious you are about your animosity. "Come on. If we leave now, we can get to McDonald's before everyone else floods it and I'll buy you your second lunch. Anything you want. I'll even buy you two—count 'em _— two_ Happy Meals so you can get the girl and boy toys."

He wiggles his fingers enticingly. You offer him a derisive sniff in response. He can't buy you out, and if he thinks that you're going to bounce back to normal after you've barely spoken to him all month (that's kind of your fault, though, because you have yourself constantly set away on Pesterchum), he has another thing coming. 

"Is that a no?" He stops walking with you, and you stop as well. You don't want him to think he's won, but you also really don't want to turn down the first opportunity to spend time with your best friend in what feels like forever.

"Ugh." You groan heavily and wheel yourself around to catch up with him so the two of you can go back to his car. "Let's go. I'm not buying off the Dollar Menu, so I hope you have a small fortune tucked away for this very occasion."

You know he rolls his eyes behind his shades, and for a moment, things are good between the two of you. The ride to get food is similar, and by the time you're both actually sitting down to eat, you're feeling great about the biggest hurdle in your life since puberty.

"You would not _believe_ this prank I pulled the other day in math." You reach over to snatch a few of his fries before you launch into another story, but his phone rings some country love song and cuts you off.

"Shit, hold on." He shifts in his chair to whip his phone out of his pocket. "Hello?"

After the person on the other line responds, you're immediately able to identify who it is without hearing their voice; even though Dave doesn't smile, he does this  _thing_ where he settles forward on the table and kind of curls in on himself, getting cozy.

Your mood plummets, and you grab his carton of fries along with his keys in the most dramatic display of upset you can manage.

"Ah, fuck, hold on—John?" He pulls the phone away from his ear and follows you. "John, where the hell are you going?" Dave waffles for a moment, uncertain of what to do between you and his girlfriend, but he eventually whispers something to her and hangs up to follow you out of the restaurant.

Why are you so mad? It's not like you ever hung off him before. It was always Dave that was bugging you for attention, Dave that called and made plans, Dave that did everything to keep your friendship afloat, and god _damn_ you're a douchebag.

You haul yourself into the passenger's side and lock yourself in with this revelation.

Dave taps on the glass moments later.

"John? Let me in. This is my car."

You turn away from him and unlock the door, and he quickly swings into the driver's seat and takes his keys back. You expect him to say something, and he expects you to say something too, but neither of you have the courage to speak up so he just turns on the radio and drives.

The two of you continue to avoid conversation the entire way back to his house; upon arrival, however, the silence is broken with a hammer. With seven hammers. The ungodly wrath of teenage frustration crashes down on the helpless sugar glass of your strained friendship.

"What the _fuck_ is your problem, dude?" Dave demands, tossing his backpack onto the floor with an unceremonious thud that signals the beginning of the release of tension.

"What's _your_ problem?" You hurry into the kitchen even as steam rolls off you in waves, unable to fight habit, especially when you left his fries in his car. "I never get to talk to you anymore! And when I do, it takes one little thing to lose your attention! It sucks, okay? I have every right to be pissed."

He's going to feel so bad. He's going to feel bad and then give this up and dump his girlfriend and you'll win.

When he doesn't, you're taken aback.

"Are you kidding, John? The only reason we haven't been talking is because you turned into a flaming buttlicker as soon as I told you I had a girlfriend! I've been trying to say shit to you and do shit with you and you've done _nothing_ but get bitchy with me."

"Bitchy?" Your voice cracks. "I was only like that because you've sucked so hard!"

"You are not putting this on me." But you are. You are putting this on him, because you don't want to verbally acknowledge all the answers that are quickly bubbling to the surface of your mind.

You can't help it.

He glowers at you, and you don't know what else to do—so you hit him. The instant your fist connects with his cheek, you realize you didn't actually _want_ to hit him, but his reflexes are too fast for you to stutter out an apology before he retaliates.

Before you really have a chance to realize what's happening, you're both struggling back into the carpeted living room, gritting out expletives and insults as they occur to you. A particularly hard shove lands Dave on his ass, and you tumble down with him, but the moment of reprieve means nothing when you're both hitting the climax of your anger.

You twist your fingers into the front of his shirt and pull him up, biting the inside of your cheek just to regain some feeling in your face.

"I'm so pissed at you," you tell him, but you mean something else that you can't place, and the overwhelming urge to punch him again shocks down your arm but then you realize it's not a _punch_ you want and you don't know what's happening with your emotions anymore and your _head is spinning_ so you just —kiss him.

He kisses back.

Things fall into place for both of you, and the fight is over as quickly as it started, replaced with the settlement of dusty guilt over the havoc you have wrought.

"Why did you have to do this now?" he asks. The question hangs in the air, and you uncurl your fingers from his shirt so you can crawl off him and sit back. "I'm pissed at you too."

You miss the yelling already.

"I was just getting over you, and you pull this shit." He wipes his nose, but you don't think you ever hit hard enough to make him bleed. "...I'm not gonna break up with her."

You nod. You shrug. You're not sure what the appropriate response is—you never thought you wanted to date Dave before, but his statement solidifies the fact that you missed your chance, and that kind of hurts.

"I know," you finally say. "Do you want to go to a movie next week? She can come."

He looks at you, eyebrows raising over the horizon of his shades. You shrug again. You're not over everything already, but you can at least give this third-wheel business a shot now that you've reached your lowest point.

"It can just be you and me," he offers. "She needs to spend time with her friends, too."

This is weird, but you slowly nod and flash him a half-hearted thumbs up. You're unhappy and the feeling is starting to return in the places he hit hardest—if nothing else, though, you're relieved that the two of you are coming out of this as friends.

"Cool?" he asks.

"Yeah. It's cool." You toss him a weak smile. "But, Dave? The minute it stops working between you guys, you know where to find me."

He scoffs, but you're pretty sure there's some humor behind it. "You'll be the first to know."


End file.
